The Scarier Side of Science
by dochar ar bith ann
Summary: PostILD, Dialoguebased. We all know he's cracked as his glasses. And even if he's not crazy, a whole lot more time in her presence and both of them soon will be.
1. Introduction

Hey, y'all!

This is a random little idea I've been toying with for the past while... Basically, it is an almost completely dialogue-based story. It will occasionally have paragraphs of description, but mainly, it will be a lot like a radio program.

And for the content: Not long after seeing the second Spy Kids film, I realized something horrible: there are NO Romero-fics! None! and I love him so! So basically, it's all him.

Summary: We all know he's cracked as his glasses. And even if he's _not_ crazy, a whole lot more time in her presence and both of them soon will be.

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_Introduction_

He had to be the single oddest man she'd ever laid eyes on.

He wore a long, white lab coat, a gaudy button-up shirt and a bad tie. Everything looked about three sizes too big for him, and a thick leather belt had been tied around his skinny waist. His hair was flyaway, sticking up and then flopping back down over his brow, as if it had not seen a comb in a long time. Blue eyes with thick, puffy rims peered through large-framed, distinctly dorky glasses attached to a string that hung around his neck. Their left frame had been shattered into fractured bits.

"Doctor Romero?" she asked, almost unable to accept that this picture of a mad scientist would be her co-worker for the next year.

His expression was cool and observant, but at the same time, there was a curiously wary light in his eyes. "Yes. Are you Doctor Lawrence?" He asked carefully, in a voice like a Brooklyn oil slick.

"That's me."

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Well, that's just an intro... the rest will come soon. Please R&R. It helps me write.

Love ya all!

Till My Head Falls Off


	2. Chapter 1: No, He's Not, Really

Well, I'm back! First chappie here. No reviews, which is sad, but what can one do?

I've used the same text to show Romero and Dr. Lawrence (who I plan to make a point of describing as little as possible, in an effort to avoid Mary Sue-ism), but I'm fairly sure you can tell who's who based on what they're saying. If not, please let me know.

On witta show!

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Chapter 1

"Wow. This place is amazing. Seems like a crime to build a zoo here."

"Apparently, they're taking every precaution to keep the environment of the island intact."

"'Apparently'?"

"_Little Rascal_ have a bad track record."

"I work for them, you know."

"Everybody works for a sleaze-bag at some point in their life. Careful, that's not as steady as it looks."

"It doesn't look very steady."

"My point exactly."

"Have we really got to cross a... a peat-bog to get to this place?"

"I'm afraid so. The other option is climbing a mountain. I was... (pant) going to put in paths, but it would... (gasp) destabilize the environment."

"I think it'd be worth it."

"It won't be... (pant) this bad in future... (gasp) I don't normally make this trip. I (pant) usually stay on the south side of the island."

"Oh. Well (erk) that's a relief."

(Laboured silence)

"Okay, (pant) that's it... back entrance is just over there."

"Oh good."

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Day 2

"Why did you ever go to that much effort to keep this place hidden?"

"It wasn't that difficult. Basic projector, heat and wind... It all comes from volcanic activity anyway. I just redirected it."

"But... really, an illusion? I'd figure, if they've fallen into a volcano, they've already found the island and met the monsters. Plus, anyone who's dumb enough to fall into an active volcano's not going to be a threat."

"A., they're not monsters, they're creatures, and B., I happen to know a few very admirable people who've fallen into this volcano. So watch what you say."

"Oh. Weird. ...But still, paranoia, anyone?"

"I'm not paranoid! It was to protect the technology that kept this place hidden. If that ever got into the wrong hands- which it nearly _did_- the repercussions would be unimaginable."

"I'm not even going to ask."

"Good. Don't. And I'm not paranoid."

"Yeah, you said."

(Silence)

"So are all the stories true?"

"What stories?"

"That you lived here for three years with no contact with the outside world? Something like that?"

"...How do you know that?"

"We researched this place for ages before we actually found you. Secluded research facility worked by a Dr. Romero, genetic experimentation, though it all seemed a bit hushed-up... and then all news evidence was gone. Just rumours about strange creatures, for years. Nobody could even find the island with radar. But when we did find it, you were still there."

"Oh. It was actually four years."

"Hm. That explains a lot."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You know, the whole 'mad scientist' thing?"

(Appalled pause) "I'm not crazy! Why does everyone assume I'm crazy?"

"Hm... I don't know whether it's the hair, the glasses, or the general demeanor, but it's something."

"...You- Oh, ha ha ha, you're soooo clever."

"Seriously, though, what's the deal with the glasses? How can you see out of those things?"

"Necessity is the mother of invention and adaptation. You get used to it. I only had the one pair with me."

"And they got cracked?"

"Uh-huh."

"How?"

"Genetic manipulation gone wrong. I was trying to grow the creatures from Zoo Too. But something about their genetic code made the growth formula unstable, and there was an instant, violent reaction. I broke them trying to get away."

"But the creatures are all harmless."

"I didn't know that at the time."

"You _made_ them."

"So? For all I knew they could have been man-eaters! It was a violent, unstable alteration, to- to animals that I'd had no chance to observe in- in a totally natural habitat!"

"But instead of sticking around to find out, you ran away?"

"I'm no coward!"

"I didn't say you were."

"You were thinking it!"

"(Snorts) Wow, somebody's sensetive."

(Silence; sharp footsteps)

"Hey, Romero! Where you going? Hey- Wait a minute!"

(Hurried footsteps)

"Hey, I still don't know the way around here!"

"You'll have to learn soon."

"But- Where are we going?"

"_I_'m going to the lab."

"Hey- Hey look! What's your problem? I was just kidding!"

"Well, pardon me for not getting the joke, but I don't much like it when people look at me like I'm some kind of..."

"Okay, look. I don't think you're a coward. And if you were, it wouldn't bother me anyway. I mean, this place is amazing. I know enough about you to know you're a brilliant scientist and I've always wanted to work on a project like this. So... Truce?"

"...Okay. Truce."

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Well, there we go. Please review, because that's the only conceivable way I'll ever actually learn to write!

Love yer all!

Till My Head Falls Off


	3. Chapter 2: It's an Art

Back again! Sorry this took so long, real life, blah blah blah. Thanks oh-so-much to my reviewer!

Disclaimer: All I own in Dr. Lawrence, and I barely know anything about her.

On with the show!

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Chapter 3

Day 3

"You're late."

"I'm half an hour early."

"Not by that clock. Or that one."

"By my watch..."

"(Sighs) Did you set it for Island time?"

"Um..."

"Plainly not."

"You could have warned me about that."

"Was I required to?"

"No, but it would have been nice."

"Well, tough luck. Get set up. You've already wasted enough time."

"Geez. A little common courtesy too much to ask?"

"Yes, apparently."

"Hey, wait a minute."

"What?"

"If I set my watch wrong, wouldn't I have been late yesterday too? But I wasn't."

"Maybe you sat on it and screwed it up."

"I never take it off, though. That's weird."

"Whatever."

"I guess it must be broken or something. I'm _sure_ I didn't touch any of the buttons."

"Buttons? It's digital?"

"Yes..."

"Eugh."

"What's wrong with digital?"

"Where's the class in a digital? No style _whatsoever_."

"This coming from the man with the worst dress sense in the known universe?"

"Ooh, you think you're so funny. I may not be up on the trends, but I know enough to avoid digitals."

"_What _is wrong with them? And don't say lack of style, you miserable little creep."

"I'll ignore that last bit, shall I? Lots of things. They're more difficult to use, they break more easily in water, they can be hacked, they emit low-level radiation-"

"Who'd want to hack a watch?"

"Er- (Awkwardly) There are reasons."

"Like what?"

(Silence)

"Wait a minute... You- You hacked my watch, didn't you?"

"No."

"You lying, snivelling-"

"There wasn't anything snivelling about it! Hacking's an art!"

"Oh, so you admit it now, eh?"

"Uh-"

"You made me late on purpose?"

"Why are you complaining? You got an extra hour of sleep."

"Why would you do that?"

"I was hoping you wouldn't figure it out for at least a few more hours."

"So you could mess with my head?"

"Yeah, pretty much."

-----

His very presence was irritating. His exacting speech, his slightly nasal New York accent, his sulky mannerismes, the way he refused to use an office chair properly, and instead moved about in it as much as possible, gliding about the room like an excitable eight-year-old and never even _once _giving her the satisfaction of crashing into something.

She particularly enjoyed stinging him. A well-placed insult here and there, and he got all offended and sulky. She was getting good at hitting nerves, too. _Coward_ seemed a big one, though in truth she shied away from that one, out of some ancient sense of decency she often wished she didn't have. _Crazy_ was another implication he couldn't stand. It was quite amusing, really, to throw a well-veiled questioning of his sanity into a conversation and watch him squirm.

He didn't talk a huge amount, though he had a habit of asking himself rhetorical questions that she assumed was born of very long periods as a total hermit. He had a surprisingly accurate internal clock, and didn't need to look at a stopwatch in even the more delicate stages of a procedure. That annoyed her; it seemed flippant and irreverand to not time it all very carefully, and yet she couldn't call him up on it, because he was never wrong. He was clearly a scientific genius, which was also annoying. Whenever she felt sure she'd impress with something, him, he'd look up, appearing slightly bored, blink his blue eyes behind their cracked lenses and say, "Yes...?". It was infuriating.

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Day 7

"Mind getting the Thalium?"

"Sure, uh... Where is it?"

"That cupboard, with the green handle."

"Right. Ehh... Got it. Here."

"Thanks." (Bubbling) "Hmm, that's an interesting colour."

"What, puke-green?"

"I was going to say it's the same colour as your eyes. But hey, same thing."

"Jerk."

"Well, that's uncreative."

"Impudent, ornary, timerous, ratty little weirdo."

"That'll do, pig. That'll do."

"I think I really hate you."

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Well, there we go. Another chapter. I hope you liked it, and please, review!

Love you all,

Till My Head Falls Off


	4. Chapter 3: A Nightmare

_Wow_, did this ever take a long time to write! I swear, my creativity is down the tube. Wahahaha... (Cries). Oh well. Here you go.

Disclaimer: All I own is Dr. Lawrence. Yeah, we learn her first name in this chappie. Yay.

On with the show!

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Day 10

"Aww, they're so little!

"Say it."

"What?"

"Say I'm a genius."

"No."

"You know it's true."

"You can make little hairy elephants. Big whoop."

"Little hairy elephants? _Little hairy elephants_? Tell me, Doctor, have _you _recreated any extinct species in miniature form within the past month or so?"

"I helped make those."

"With _my _formula."

"You're not a genius, Rom, you're just the only person unstable enough to put their entire life into this."

"Not my fault you have no work ethic."

"Oh, nonono. What you do is not work ethics. It's Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder."

"Nikola Tesla was Obsessive-Compulsive."

"Tesla was also insane."

"Well, I'm neither, so there."

"I don't believe you."

"That's your loss. Get outta my office."

"It's my office too."

"(Growls slightly)"

"So what next? Tiny Wooly Rhinos?"

"You can try if you want. I'm going Slizzard-riding."

"What? What do you mean?"

"Never you mind."

"You can ride the slizzards?"

"Oh, you wouldn't like it. They're all probably as unstable as I am. (Sniggers) Besides, you have to weigh less than 200 pounds to ride one."

(_Slap_)

"Ow." (pause) "That was _so_ worth it."

"A, you're a complete jerk and I most certainly _don't_ weight that much, B, do you really want to get into personal stuff? Because I've got a heck of a lot more to go on than you."

"Was there a C?"

"Yes. If you're gonna ride a slizzard, I'm coming with you."

-----

"Agh! How do you make it turn?"

"You have to will it."

"Woah- Seriously, Rom. I'm gonna go over a cliff in a few seconds."

"Try poking him in the neck. Seems to work."

"...Hey, it does. Phew. What's this one's name, again?"

"Jack."

"(Sarcastically) How'd you think that one up?"

"He looks like Jack Nicholson."

"(Laughter) Hey, he does! It's uncanny! 'Course, so do all the others."

"I know. This one here is Willem, after Willem Dafoe."

"That guy scares the crap outta me."

"That makes two of us."

(Pause)

"Wanna race?"

"You're on, weirdo."

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Day 14

Ring. Ring.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Mom."

"Kelly? How are you, sweetie?"

"Mom. Must you call me that?"

"Alright, I'm sorry. Be polite. So, tell me, how's this new job?"

"Well, the job itself is pretty interesting, I mean the research is like nothing I've ever worked on."

"So you're enjoying it?"

"The science, yeah, I guess I enjoy it..."

"What about your coworker? Doctor- oh, what was it, something Italian..."

"Romero."

"That's the one. What's he like?"

"He's a nightmare."

"Oh, dear, that's terrible... What's he done that's so awful?"

"Well... (uncomfortable pause) It's not so much _what he's done_... It's more just his general attitude."

"What do you mean?"

"He's... he's _annoying_! He's extremely touchy and he goes out of his way to bug me and- and- he's just a weasely little know-it-all!"

"You're a bit of a know-it-all yourself sometimes, Kelly."

"Yeah, well, then he's the know-it-all to end all know-it-alls."

"Does he actually _know it all_?"

"Well- yeah, I guess so..."

"Before you left you said he was some kind of genius."

"Yeah, but- He is, he's just really annoying about it!"

"Well, hon, I can only advise you to just try and put up with the annoying part and learn as much from him as you can. Not everybody gets to work with a genius."

"I know, I know..."

"You need to learn to make good out of what you have. Come on. Tell me something good about him, there must be something."

"Well.. I guess he has got talent."

"That's something. Talent counts for a lot. Anything else?"

"... He can sorta be funny at times..."

"See? Another good thing. Well, tell me about some of the science you've done."

"I'm not really allowed to give much away right now, but we're working on attractions for the zoo... Oh, Mom, the other day we made miniature wooly mammoths!"

"(Laughs) I thought you weren't supposed to give it away?"

"Not technically, but... little mammoths, Mom! Come _on;_ isn't that awesome?"

"How did you get mammoth DNA?"

"We made it! Romero made a coding formula you can use to create DNA of any kind- we coded in all the traits for mammoths-except for size."

"He _made _a DNA coding formula? How old is he, exactly?"

"Um... thirty, thirty-five maybe? I dunno."

"My god... He's only about your age. I thought he'd be at least fifty, from what I'd heard about him. You know, the work he's done. Seems like an awful lot for somebody so young."

"... I kinda expected so too. But he's... yeah, he's my age."

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He _was _young, wasn't he? She hadn't realized before, because there was something about him that seemed extraordinarily dated, old, out of style. But he couldn't have been any older than about thirty-six.

Which meant he wasn't far off from her at all. Kelly Lawrence, 33, still thought of herself as young. And unless she wanted to start thinking otherwise very soon, she would have to think of him as fairly young, too. A _young _scientist who had done a whole lot and probably sacreficed a whole lot too. He'd have had to, to ever have agreed to work completely alone at the age of thirty. It would have been lonely... God, it would have been lonely. How had it not occurred to her, how lonely he must have been? Not even the most antisocial of men could have gone that long without _someone _to talk to.

Jeez, it was a wonder he was as sane as he was.

* * *

And, lalala, another chapter. Please, please read and review. Seriously, I've only got one review. It's depressing me. And I need suggestions, or at least feedback, about the story- does their dialogue work? Is there any chemistry (haha) or do you just not see it? C'mon, help me out.

Love you all, whether or not you review (but love you MORE if you do).

Till My Head Falls Off


	5. Chapter 4: You're Kidding Me

Hello again! Thanks **unbelievable** amounts to my reviewer... I read the review and got a burst of inspiration!

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_Day 15_

"Late. For real this time."

"Sorry. Blame my toaster."

"Your _toaster?"_

"It messed up and blackened my toast!"

"Umm... "

"So I had to make more, obviously."

"You could have just skipped it."

"Not unless I want to wind up looking like you."

"Har har, very funny."

"Hey, you seem less incredibly touchy than usual."

"I'm not the touchy one, you are. You slapped me yesterday. It really hurt."

"Whine, whine. You called me fat. That's an unforgivable crime."

"You just called me skinny, and I didn't start abusing you."

"It's different. There's no social taboo against being skinny."

"So why do you use it as an insult?"

"You take it to an extraordinary level. Seriously, do you eat? Ever?"

"Don't be stupid. I'm a gourmet. It's just a little hard when all you have is the veggies in the greenhouse because the supply ships can't find you... some of which got mutated, so I'm not sure I wanna eat them."

"You're not a gourmet."

"Yes I am. Chemistry, cooking, what's the difference?"

"There's a huge difference. One you eat, one you don't."

"They're still very similar."

"I don't believe you."

"Shall I prove it, then?"

"Sure. I'm sick of burnt toast anyway."

"Alrightly then. (Cracks knuckles) The lady doesn't trust my cooking skills. We shall have to show her."

"You're talking to yourself again."

"Hush. I'm trying to decide what to make."

"Don't care."

"I tell you what. Mushroom Risotto. And just to prove my point about the similarities of science and cooking, I'll make it in the lab. Gimme half an hour or so. Let's see, bunsen burners..."

"Well, I'm watching this. Should be interesting."

* * *

_33 minutes later_

"Oh, God, it's actually good. Now I look like an idiot."

"That you do."

"- What is that? It smells like... Oh, I know it's a mushroom but it's... Oh, it smells _great_."

"That'd be the truffle."

_"What?"_

"I grow them in the greenhouses. They seem to like the soil here. Count yourself lucky, you know; that'd cost a lot in a restaurant."

"I know. I've never had them before."

"It was a little iffy cooking in the lab, actually. I was scared I was gonna burn them. Burning truffles is a sin."

"(Muffled) I agree. (Swallows) Where did you learn to make this? I take back everything I said before. It's delicious."

"Actually I learned that one from my grandmother."

"Aw, that's sweet... Little Rom's granny teaching him how to cook..."

"Eheh. Italian families. Food is important to us."

"I can see why."

"Me too. You're much more pleasant when you're well-fed."

"Quiet, you."

"I take it back, then."

"I'm really not listening, Rom. Why do I still eat in that crappy little kitchenette?"

"Kitchenettes. I loathe them with a passion. I don't mind cooking for you, if you like."

"Thank you, I _would_ like."

_

* * *

_

_Day 20_

"Arsehead."

"Buffoon."

"Creep."

"Dork."

"Egghead."

"Fool."

"Gargoyle."

"Harpie!"

"Ignorant jackass."

"Kafka-creature."

"Loser."

"Moron."

"Narcissist."

"Oaf."

"Psychopath."

"...Quack."

"Retard."

"Sicko."

"Troll."

"Underacheiver."

"Vapid weirdo."

"Xenophobe!"

"Good one. Yellow-bellied zealot."

"I got all the hard ones. "

"I got Z. What the heck am I supposed to do with Z?"

"Um... Ze... Zebra? I got nothing else."

"Great game. Can be surprisingly tricky."

"That's the kind of thing your mind pukes up when you're alone for four years."

"That must have been nasty."

"Oh, I don't know. It wasn't all bad. Sure, I was terrified half the time, but I got really good at solitaire."

"I think I'd pass."

"Ditto."

"You could have radioed for help or something, couldn't you have? Or shut off the concealment systems?"

"Yes, but I assumed any rescue parties would be eaten by slizzards."

"You really thought they were dangerous?"

"Well, yes! That's why I stuck around! I figured somebody had to keep those things away from people!"

"A big enough rescue party could have handled them."

"It was my responsability."

"To chain yourself to an island for four years?"

"I _made_ them."

"...You're a weird man."

"Did you ever read Mary Shelley's _Frankenstein?"_

"Uhh, yeah, in high school..."

"You know what it's _really_ about?"

"Don't play God?"

"In part. Mostly, it's that if you're going to play God,_ take responsability for what you create."_

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Okay, there we go. Please review. 

Love you all,

Dochar ar Bith Ann (I changed my penname! This one's gaelic. Invisible cookies for the first person to tell me what it means!)


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